The other night I was lying in bed listening to the rain pelt against the house and the wind howl. . I couldn't sleep. . .so I prayed. . .then after that I did what any normal person would do at 2 a.m. and reached over, grabbed my blackberry and started going through my contacts and deleting duplicates??? Yeah, don't ask! But my heart was bothered and subconsciously I knew what I was looking for. . .I knew this moment would come, and I've been avoiding it. It's probably going to sound cheesy. . .and what a testament to our changing culture, but there needs to be some new terminology created for technology induced situations like the one I'm about to describe. . .but I digress. . .
For some reason, I find it intensely emotional to delete people who have died from the contact list in my phone and email. . .it weirds me out. . I don't know why. . it just seems like I am somehow taking part in erasing them. . .AND I HATE THAT. Please don't call the loony bin on me. . .this is normal right??
That night I came across my dad's contact info. . he died 9 months ago from ALS. And as I was lying there, listening to the blasted rain fall on our unseeded fields. . .worry eating at the edges of my mind. . .knowing I was about to launch Gorp and feeling very alone. . .I felt an intense physical ache at the thought of deleting my dad. . .the man who passed on my LOVE of business. . .the desire to serve God and make a difference. . .the vision of forging the entrepreneurs path. . .I wanted to call him so badly. The last 10 years my relationship with my dad was a complicated one. . .to say the least. .. but he raised me with much love, he implanted in me a confidence that I could do anything I set my mind to. . .I still find myself wanting/needing him to be proud of me. . .it makes me feel ashamed and embarrassed at how badly I still need to know if he was. . .
Today my ingredient bins came. . .and as I was excitedly unpacking the boxes in the basement I was transported back to the shipping department of Word Alive, my dad's book distribution business he started out of our basement when I was a kid. . .I was his shipper/receiver for all my highschool years. . .tears flowed. . .I hadn't seen the parallel before. . how foolish. . .but here I was. . doing EXACTLY what I had watched him do. . I remember when he packed the first box that would go out with a PRINTED (not handwritten) label! I can vividly see him standing in our cruddy basement in Toronto, holding up this tiny box with the biggest smile plastered across his face:) I was 11 and I was very proud of him. I didn't realize until now, how much I actually wanted him to see me with my first order packed and ready to ship with that spookily similar smile plastered across my face. . .weird.
.. . long story short. . .I deleted my dad. And somehow I let something go that I had been hanging on to. A wish of something that will never be.
Rest in peace dad. I miss you.
. . .now it's time to move on. . .the spot that a dad fills in his daughters life is a spot that God is more than capable of stepping into. . .I just have to learn to let Him.
. 
Beautifully written Colleen...I know he would be so proud.
Posted by: Ella | June 01, 2011 at 04:46 PM
He's proud, trust me.
Posted by: Garth | June 01, 2011 at 04:53 PM
Oh Colleen, my tears are flowing now. It is crazy how it hits at the oddest times. When I was contacting everyone to let them know that Sierra had been born, there was one phone call that would never be made, and it made me so sad to know that he wasn't here to rejoice with me, to tease me about being a "granny", to tell me she was "a keeper" when he got the e-mailed photos. We all long to have shared things with him that we will never get the chance to. Somehow I believe that God - in His mercy - lets our loved ones know how we're doing down here - and if not, we have an eternity to catch them up on what they missed.
And just for the record - I know he was proud of you - as we all are!
Love you,
Marsha
Posted by: Marsha | June 01, 2011 at 05:12 PM
Beautiful. thinking of you....
xoxo
Posted by: jj | June 01, 2011 at 07:34 PM
This brought tears to my eyes too, Colleen.
Posted by: Brian Friesen | June 01, 2011 at 07:43 PM
. . . .we are all truly put on this earth for each other. . .to stand in the gap, give a shoulder to lean on and shore each other up in times of trouble. . thanks for the warm thoughts everyone. . .
Posted by: Colleen | June 01, 2011 at 09:39 PM
You are never alone dear friend, I am only as far as a phone call or text away on stormy lonely nights and we still have an unclaimed date to meet with our bikes on those back dirt roads!
Posted by: Heidi | June 02, 2011 at 08:23 AM
:)
Posted by: Colleen | June 02, 2011 at 09:53 PM
Colleen, you tapped into a deep place with sharing your heart like this. It triggers something at the core of each of us. It is the longing to love and to be loved and affirmed, especially by our fathers.
Your father was a great man. I know of people who are in business today who have been hugely blessedf by God because they put into practice what your father taught in the area of business and finances. What a huge blessing it is to see that legacy going forward in your life today.
I know that your father would be VERY proud of you, and of your building upon his legacy. He would only desire that you go beyond what he was able to achieve and to accomplish. You have a great heritage.
May the blessings be multiplied many times over in your generation.
Posted by: Roger Armbruster | June 03, 2011 at 01:41 PM
:) wow. . thanks Roger. . .
Posted by: Colleen | June 05, 2011 at 02:26 PM
you are so beautiful colleen. <3 love you much.
Posted by: Ruth | June 24, 2011 at 10:19 PM